


Small Pleasures

by sunandoceanblue



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Evil Space Boyfriends, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Smut, it was supposed to be a drabble what happened, this is disgustingly cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunandoceanblue/pseuds/sunandoceanblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are men of passion; harbouring the fiery extreme of each and every emotion, from hate and frustration to love and lust. They’ll snap like dogs because the anger they hold for one another is real and true but they’ll coil into each other’s touch because they are burning men and only the other can quench their thirst for salvation.</p><p>(Otherwise known as my drabble that grew into some gross and cute smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... I don't know what happened. It starts off as an joke and then gets cute??? Enjoy??

When Hux returns to his quarters after a long, stressful and complete nightmare of a day, he is sure of two things.

One: There is no way he is going to finish the weapons report the military division is expecting the following morning.

Two: Someone is using his shower.

Perhaps the second one should have been of more concern to him but really, who else is going to be showering in his quarters other than Kylo? The man insisted he didn’t like the refreshes in the gym, preferred _more privacy_ , he said. Though Hux suspects Kylo just likes making a mess of his bathroom.

After dumping his datapad and mug on his desk, he walks to the bathroom door, finding it unlocked, of course, but still proceeds to knock. Just as he’s about to rap against the door, the water shuts off.

“You can come in,” Kylo says.

Hux opens the door and sneers. “Thank you for inviting me into my own bathroom.”

Kylo has just climbed out of the shower and is wrapping a towel around his waist – specially using Hux’s favourite towel, the prick.  Once its sitting on his hips (probably a little too low to be considered appropriate) he pushes his wet hair from his face and fixates his gaze on Hux.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Kylo says with a sardonic grin as he reaches for another towel to dry his hair with.

“Mm, you’re hilarious.” Hux leaves then, walking away from the bathroom and back to his desk. He runs a hand through his hair, just staring at his datapad. The reports won’t finish themselves and if he doesn’t start soon...

Hux shrugs off his greatcoat, throwing it on his desk with more force than necessary. He reaches for the bottle of whisky he’s yet to put away, and his favourite glass, the one that had his initials branded on the bottom of the glass. The one his father got him as a graduation gift. The only gift he can remember receiving from his father.

As he pours himself a generous amount, Kylo emerges from the bathroom. His hair is damp, slowly drying and he was now wearing a loose pair of trousers. He walks over to Hux, who pointedly ignores him, screwing the lid back on his whisky before picking up his glass once more.

Kylo plucks the glass from him, taking a sip. His nose crinkles slightly before he hands it back. “You usually don’t drink until after dinner,” he says. “Has something happened?”

“You will not believe the day I’ve had,” Hux mutters, taking a large swig from his glass and scowling. “I won’t bore you with the details.”  
  
Kylo sits on his chair, making himself quite comfortable. “Bore me all you want,” he says, fingers reaching forward to curl around Hux’s waist. “You seem stressed. It’s always healthy to vent.”

Hux purses his lips, watching as Kylo’s hands very quickly move to his belt as he busies himself with getting it undone. It wasn’t as if he was being uncharacteristically nice. With his guard down, Kylo found it immensely hard to keep up a cold, emotionless persona; the man had a buried kindness to him, eager to please but not to appear weak. He was ready to submit to Hux at almost any given time but he’ll be damned if he lets Hux call him nice. Even if it’s showing once gain.

Still, he seldom gets the opportunity to rant.

“Well... remember that scouting party that was sent to investigate the Resistance activity in the Outer Rim Territories, ah... in the Raioballo sector, I believe?” Kylo nodded his head, carefully removing Hux’s belt and setting it on the desk, beside his greatcoat. “The party has failed to report in, and judging by intel we’ve received by some informants, they’ve been killed.”

“What a tragedy,” Kylo says, now working to undo Hux’s coat.

“It wouldn’t be as big a loss if they had given us _some_ information.” Hux frowns. “Phasma wants to investigate but I believe it’s a waste of resources.”

Kylo stands, opening Hux’s coat slowly, briefly brushing his hands down his crisp white undershirt. “You know what’s best. You’re General for a reason.” He grips the coat by the shoulders and eases it off. He folds it half before he sets it on the desk with the other articles of clothing.

“Exactly!” Hux suddenly exclaims, slamming his glass down. “I find it insulting that I am exposed to doubt and criticism. Why, just today, Colonel Leaux contradicted me in our military conference this morning. We were discussing the ballistic reports on our latest firearm range – remember the ones I was telling you about – and he has the _nerve_ to tell me I’m too inexperienced to understand the changes made over the last few decades. That the Academy’s courses have vastly changed from when they went to school compared to when I did.” He scoffs, utterly offended all over again as he recalls the scene. He holds his hand out to Kylo.

“Didn’t they increase in difficulty?” Kylo kisses the palm of Hux’s gloved hand, before gripping his wrist and removing the glove with his teeth carefully.

Hux knows Kylo doesn’t really care, at least not about snide comments about age and experience. He recalls the knight once told him how much he loved seeing Hux get all riled up and flustered. He loved adding fuel to the fire, edging him on with provoking encouragements.

“They most certainly did and I still graduated at the top of my class – two years _early_ , might I add!”

“They’re just jealous you rose through the ranks so quickly,” Kylo says around the glove, gently dragging it off Hux’s pale hand. He moves to the next one.

“They all think I slept my way through,” Hux spits, yanking his hand free suddenly. “Such an undignified assumption!”

Kylo stands, cupping Hux’s face soothingly. “And those who don’t think that suspected you killed your processors.” He kisses Hux’s nose before sitting down once more and collecting both of Hux’s gloves in his hands. “Well, you aren’t fucking anyone in the First Order now; I’m not a part of the ranking.”

Hux presses his lips together tightly as Kylo sets his gloves upon the growing pile on the desk. “You don’t provide me with any strategic advantage, other than reducing the risk of tantrums.” His face screws up in anger once more. “Not that it matters; a whole system of consoles malfunctioned today. See? We don’t need you ruining things – they seem to do it themselves.”

“Is the data recoverable?” Kylo asks, fingers deftly undoing Hux’s fly.

“Most of the data has corrupted. We’re salvaging what we can but we’re going to have to cross reference it all with our hard copies, and then replace the corrupted data with the hard copy files.” Hux dragged his hands down his face. “It’s going to be a fucking nightmare. I spent most of my day helping the technicians out. Everyone was frustrated and shouting at one another. Nobody would listen to me.”

“Oh, sir, you must be exhausted.” Kylo stands and offers for Hux to sit in his place. Once the older man is seated, he nestles between his legs, spreading them apart slightly to give himself more room. “The technicians, they didn’t disrespect you, did they?”

“Well, they were under a lot of pressure – but I was offering sound advice. The junior officers wanted to do it my way, the more efficient way. I want as much data covered as possible – but no! The technicians just want to get it done as soon as possible. They-they weren’t _listening_ to me. Me! Their fucking _General!_ ”

Kylo nuzzles his face into Hux’s crotch, humming appreciative. “They should be more respectful of you; you’re an impeccable leader...” He presses a soft kiss to the growing bulge in Hux’s pants.

Hux exhales shakily, his fingers twisting through Kylo’s hair. “It’s rude, is it not?” He growls, voice never wavering, despite his relaxing posture.

“Nauseatingly so.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

Kylo hums once more, nimbly exposing Hux’s hard cock, catching the drops of precome on his fingers. He brings his fingers up to his lips and licks them clean, eyes never leaving Hux’s. “I wanna help take your mind off things, sir...”

Hux smiles then, faintly, and he pets Kylo’s head affectionately. “If only the other officers were more like you.” He pauses, shaking his head. “I’d have a lot more broken consoles... but I’d have more respect.”

Resting his hands on Hux’s slim hips, Kylo brings himself closer and kisses the tip of the General’s prick. He takes the head in his mouth, almost lazily so, tongue skirting around the slit. His lips move past the head, swallowing more of Hux’s throbbing cock but he is suddenly pulled back with a sharp tug at his hair, a dull and familiar pain striking through his skull. Kylo’s mouth comes off Hux’s length with a wet pop and he tips his head back curiously.

“If it’s all the same to you,” Hux says, beckoning for Kylo to stand. “I’d much rather fuck you.”

A wicked grin splashes across Kylo’s face, rising to his feet. “That’s fine with me, my General.” He settles himself on Hux’s lap, legs either side of the older man’s with meticulous practice.

As Kylo leans over him, Hux tugs at his loose fitting pants, greatly satisfied with how easily the slide down his muscular thighs. After a few brief seconds of awkward struggle, Kylo’s trousers are discarded carelessly, unlike Hux’s folded attire sitting atop his desk.

Finally, _finally_ , Kylo bends down and plants an open mouthed kiss on Hux’s awaiting lips. Hux surges forward, gripping at Kylo tightly and possessively, hands splayed across his back, then tumbling down his spine, then digging into his hips, then squeezing his ass. Kylo precariously goes about unbuttoning his undershirt, accidently popping a button or two. He murmurs a half-apology against Hux’s lips but loses interesting in caring when he’s rewarded with the sight of Hux’s pale and freckle peppered torso, just begging for attention. Licking his lips, Kylo wastes no time in marking up his canvas with his colour palette of deep purples and violent reds, painting blooms of bruises and circles of dripping red. Rubies and amethysts glittering against the milky backdrop. Oh, what an artist he is.

Hux groans, back arching up elegantly, caressing every inch of Kylo’s pale skin he can reach. Unable to wait any longer, one arm pulls away, blindly fumbling for the handle of the top drawer of his desk. After he succeeds in locating the drawer, he pulls it open and claims his prize, fishing out a small bottle of lube. There it sat, with various papers and old quills and stamps with the First Order logo for sealing official hard copy documents.

He hands it to Kylo, who greedily snatches it from his hand. Mumbling another lame apology, he flicks open the cap and vigilantly lubes up Hux’s long, extended fingers. He works slowly, taking more time than needed, just admiring the digits and imagines how delicious and how they feel inside of him.

His doesn’t have to imagine for long at all; when Hux is content, his pries his hand free and guides it down to Kylo’s rear, eyes flicking up to the knight’s. With perfect precision, he pushes one finger inside of Kylo, using just enough force to cause a lovely gasp to fall Kylo’s lips. Hux massages his other hand into the other man’s hip, a decided distraction from the pain, not that it’s a pain Kylo doesn’t enjoy.

Hux prods his finger around curiously, as if he doesn’t know every exact movement that will leave Kylo twitching and gaping and grinding down against him. Not long after, he inserts a second finger, curling the two digits slightly.

Kylo shudders into Hux’s neck, breath tickling the skin. He remains as silent as possible, hands clasped on his shoulders like a lifeline.

“Make some noise, darling,” Hux whispers, scissoring his fingers suddenly, eliciting the broken cry he’d been waiting for.

“Do that again,” Kylo says, teeth against his throat, sinking into the skin like butter.

The pain flashes through Hux like a white heat, straight from his neck to his groin and he groans, head rolling back to give Kylo more access and complying to Kylo’s request. It’s these small pleasures they give each other that make it feel closer to love making than either of them had expected. It’s a shift in their relationship that begrudgingly occurred, a change protests will do little against. They are men of passion; harbouring the fiery extreme of each and every emotion, from hate and frustration to love and lust. They’ll snap like dogs because the anger they hold for one another is real and true but they’ll coil into each other’s touch because they are burning men and only the other can quench their thirst for salvation.

Hux hardly remembers pushing a third finger into Kylo but here it is, twisting and curling with the other two. He mouths at Kylo’s hair, still damp, wonderfully cool against his flushed face.

Kylo grows impatient, fingers drawing over Hux’s cock, stroking it with shaking fingers, lifting his head to reveal his pleading eyes. Pupils blown large, eyes glossed over, a dazed angel. Hux found himself smiling. “You still have terrible patience.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Kylo says, voice coarse. Maybe it would have been more threatening if it didn’t sound so much like a plea.

But Hux is more than happy to comply. One by one, he wiggles his fingers free while Kylo picks up the lube once more. He’s generous with his coating, slicking Hux’s cock eagerly. Kylo tosses the bottle of lube away (it misses the desk but he pays no mind to that) and pulls himself up onto his knees, Hux’s fingers are around his hips, guiding him. With little hesitation, Kylo sinks down on Hux’s prick, hot muscles tightening around his member, gritting his teeth while grinning.

Hux can’t help but recall just how much he used to resent this man – and that shit-eating grin of his. He was jealous of the endless praise he received from Snoke, envious of the supposed limitless nature of his powers. How could this man _not_ vex him (back then and on a daily basis even now); Kylo Ren is strong and powerful and wild and free and dangerous and beautiful. He is a hurricane bound tightly in human skin, falling undone and unleashing its fury at the tug of a loose thread. He carried himself with such reverence and composure. So well that no one would have expected the hurricane within him was dominating his mind, vying for power.

Of all the things to expect under that mask, one would not anticipate wide, wet eyes and a dark mess of hair and _freckles,_ for fuck’s sake. The pain, usually hidden by that ominous mask, in the dark brown eyes was not one to pity of grieve. It was a pain that one should be frightened of. This was a man being carefully unravelled, the end result unimaginable. Hux had never questioned Snoke’s plans for Kylo – never really cared enough to – but now, now he did secretly hope whatever happened, Kylo will rise from the ashes of tests and trials and battles, triumphant and glorious. Yes, he wished for the knight’s success as much as his own.

Kylo shifts, getting comfortable, looking abundantly happy now that Hux’s dick is buried completely inside of him. His hands move to Hux’s chest, tracing the freckles absently, mapping out his own memorised constellations. He pulls himself up on his thighs and thrusts back down once more, biting his lip as he tries to keep his focus. Hux can’t help but admire how cute he looks doing so.

He jerks his hips upwards, in time with Kylo’s movements. He long ago learnt that in order to survive the inane and deadly entity that was Kylo Ren, he had to work with him, not against. Kylo was a powerful ally, best to keep that sort of potent radiance by his side, lest the man impale him with that damn saber of his. The unstoppable force and the immoveable object... just think what they could do together. That was Hux’s mantra as he dealt with the tantrums and arguments and brawls. And it’s still what he tells himself when Kylo whines that he isn’t _fucking him right_.

He seems to be doing a good job tonight; Kylo is gasping and arching, whispering Hux’s name like a prayer, eyes squeezing shut and then opening with vigor at every trust. 

And then, _oh_ , he hits Kylo’s sweet spot and Hux swore he saw stars dancing behind the younger man’s round, glassy eyes. Kylo threw his head back, ever dramatic, and sung out with a loud, deeply pleased moan.

Is that what Kylo had wanted all along, Hux ponders. Surely he didn’t just show up to shower and use all his shampoo and get water all over the tiles. He had never been a man of subtly – more or less demanding or requesting Hux, depending on his mood and what he needed from the other man – and perhaps this was the best he could do. There was a sort of odd domesticity to Kylo’s visits. Most days, it felt like they shared Hux’s quarters. Their late nights spent tumbling around in the bed, staining the sheets with come and blood, but the other parts of the day were spent showering and dining and drinking, Kylo’s company ever present. It extended beyond his – their? – quarters; the knight visited his office almost every lunch break, denying him his afternoon meal but supplying with hot, messy kisses to get him through the rest of his long day. And his if work hours dragged out too much and he was stuck writing reports and signing documents, Kylo would provide him with further company, sitting silently by his side or sucking his cock from under the desk.

“Ah, Hux, could you... move your hips a little—” Kylo grunts, brow furrowing.

Hux obliges, angling his hips and jutting upwards with the same amount of drive as before. “Better?”

Kylo nods, the action weak, and his head falls against Hux’s, foreheads pressed together. He cups Hux’s cheeks, long fingers pressing into the back of his jaw. His thighs shake.

“Are you getting close?” Hux asked lowly, wrapping his arms around Kylo’s waist. When they first fucked, Hux was silently surprised at how thin his waist was, despite his strong thighs and broad chest and shoulders. Kylo took it somewhat offensive, making a poor attempt to cover up. Hux had washed away any thoughts of self-consciousness by kissing over all the scars that crisscrossed and marred the skin of his belly and torso.  

“Nnngh, yeah... I am,” Kylo says, with great difficulty. “Am I... can—”

“You can come,” Hux assures, one hand sliding down to stroke the tip of Kylo’s cock encouragingly, smearing the precome over his fingers. “Come for me, darling?”

Kylo makes a low sound in the back of his throat and he jerks into the touch. “Are you sure, sir?”

“Mm, yes.” He drags his fingers up and down Kylo’s thick cock, matching the movements of his hips. “I want you to come for me, my Knight.”

At that name, Kylo shivers, growing tight against Hux’s prick. A sob tumbles from his plush lips, bruised from biting them, and he buried his face into the crook of Hux’s neck and shoulder. After a few more well timed strokes and thrusts, Kylo hits his releases, come spilling between them,  body tensing up and then going impossible limp, melting against Hux.  A tear or two escape and mix with the sweat and come between their chests.

Hux rubs his hand in soothing circles into Kylo’s shuddering back, coaxing him through his orgasm. “Good boy,” he sighs, still urging Kylo to rock against him, almost at his own climax.

Kylo noses at his neck, grinding his hips as best he can, but too drained to put much effort into it, still working through his orgasm.

Not long after Kylo, Hux comes, head falling against the back of his chair, exhaling, feeling himself deflate.

Silently, Kylo nestles up against him, with Hux’s softening cock still inside of him.

It startled Hux, how common this was. The cuddling. When their fucking became a... habit, they were quick to finish up afterwards. Dressing quickly and retreating. But then, attachment sunk it’s disgusting claws into them both, drawing them closer and closer to one another until goodbye kisses seemed acceptable and maybe it was _okay_ to just lie together for a while, basking in the afterglow and taste the sex in the air. And now, almost every damn night, they were a mess of limbs and bed hair, snuggled together or kicking one another in their sleep or stealing the blankets from one another.

 “Now I need to shower again,” Kylo mumbles, sounding sleepy.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Hux mocks lightly. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“Whatever.” Kylo sit up straighter, poking Hux in the shoulder. “So... over your little sulk about how shitty your day was?”

“Oh, so you’re allowed to mope and sulk and throw tantrums but I can’t?”

Kylo gives a weak shrug. “It’s unbecoming on you. It’s strange seeing you without that stick up your ass.”

“Fuck you.”

“You just did.”  


**Author's Note:**

> Come pester me on [Tumblr!](http://thesunandoceanblue.tumblr.com) I'd really love to chat!
> 
> (I blame Ed Sheeran bc that’s what I was listening to when this happened~)


End file.
